


if you feel different in the morning

by orphan_account



Category: TsukiPro the Animation, VAZZROCK, ツキウタ。 | Tsukiuta.
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Scent Kink, Unrequited Love, entirely self indulgent, i'm sorry in advance, idk if this should be mature or explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 01:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Gaku is a stranger to unrequited love, but it feels familiar. Almost as if it's something he can live with.





	if you feel different in the morning

**Author's Note:**

> Literally the first fic I've ever written in my life and it's this. 
> 
> Benefits of writing for Vazzrock:  
1) There's literally 5 people in the fandom so I know barely anyone is going to witness this trainwreck.  
2) There's so little fics that I feel whatever I post will be food for a starved audience.
> 
> I was so nervous writing this and now even posting this I feel sick so to the maximum 2 people that are reading this, thank you and be gentle.

Chaos. The entire dayーpouring rain throughout their entire, thankfully indoor, show, with traffic slowing their trip back to a crawl, nearing morning hours before they even reached home. In the whirlwind of lights and sounds, guitars being tuned, microphone feedback, honking cars through the downpour of rain, Gaku's sole grounding presence was the feel of Ruka's hand clinging to him, to his arm, the back of his shirt, to his own hand, always leading him back to the present. 

It wasn't anything more or less than any of their other gigs. 

Despite the hour and exhaustion threatening to weigh down both of their bodies for the night, Gaku, sitting next to Ruka, close enough to feel body heat pressed to his side, can't help but feel a gust of confidence. Or maybe the hour and brain fog was the perfect catalyst for something like this.

"Can I kiss you?" he says before he has any more time to hold himself back. Ruka's eyes widen. 

"Why?" 

Out of all the possible responses in the world, this is the last thing he expects Ruka to say. Ruka, who always has all the answers, is totally clueless for one of the few times in his life. 

"Because I want to." A beat. Gaku holds his breath. 

"Then sure." and just like that, with a crooked smile, Ruka moves back on the bed to invite him in further.

And Gaku dives in like this is the only chance he’ll get before either of them can change their minds. He leans forward to kneel in between Ruka's parted legs on the bed. The kiss is so enthusiastic at first that their teeth clack together, Ruka wincing a little at the sensation.

A warmth creeps its way through Gaku's veins, and he slides one hand into Ruka's hair to press the back of his head, as if they could get any closer, the other hand brought up to cup his cheek. He can feel Ruka smiling into the kiss, even letting out a giggle.

They sit there for a minute, or a few—Gaku really can't tell, pressing their lips together experimentally varying between short pecks and drawn out open-mouthed kisses. Like in the clichés, he feels fireworks, as if this is how it’s always meant to be between them, friends to lovers. Finally. And God, it feels good. 

It's Ruka that pulls back first; he looks up into Gaku's eyes, blinking slowly for a few moments before he breaks into a recognizable smile. 

"Well that was fun," he chimes, painfully unphased, falling backward onto his bed with a huff. Gaku still hovers over him, like something in Ruka’s saliva was venom, paralyzing him, "What?" 

He's still speechless, unmoving, barely even remembering to breathe. 

"This doesn't change anything, if that's what you're so worked up about." Ruka lifts his arm to gently punch into Gaku's bicep. 

"Right. Yeah." The air has finally returned to his lungs, and he fumbles backward off of the bed to stand up onto shaky legs. "Hey, Ruu?" 

"Hmm?" Ruka pushes himself up to rest back on his elbows. 

"I love you." He's said it before, they both have to each other, but Gaku hopes he can sense how it means something entirely more serious this time. 

"I love you too!" It comes out completely nonchalant. Nothing in his voice even hints at anything more. 

"I'm in love with you." He tries again, knowing full well it's a mistake, and that the conversation should have ended with Ruka's reply. 

"Oh," Ruka's eyes dart away to avoid making contact and it feels like a stab, "Like, love love?" 

He again can't muster up anything to say. He just nods. 

"Well, I'm fond of you for sure," he shuffles to sit up properly. A pause. Then a sigh. "Gakuun, I just think you desperately need to get laid or something. Your horny pent-up brain just doesn't know what it really wants." 

"Probably." _Yeah,_ he thinks, _laid by you_. 

"I'm really tired," Ruka flops back down and rolls onto his side, "You gonna stay?" 

"What?" 

"Are you gonna stay in my room tonight?" 

"Oh, nah. I'll head back." It's awkward as hell. 

Ruka shuts his eyes, "Then goodnight Gakuun." 

"Night." And before Gaku has the chance to say anything more, Ruka's dozed off. 

And looking at Ruka's fast-asleep face, he thinks he loves him so much he might die. He'll crash and burn and blame the world for giving him such an addictive person to fall in love with only to not have the feeling returned. To not be able to love him in the way he wants to.

He has the knowledge that Ruka can't function without him, that his daily life depends on being doted on by Gaku. Being praised and pet and fed like a spoiled housecat. But apparently nothing deeper than that. Ruka runs on approval and affection and Gaku has always been there to supply; it didn't hit him how much he needed to coddle Ruka to satisfy his own emotional fulfillment as much as the other needed to be coddled. 

He doesn't think there's a possible universe out there where he could have not fallen in love with Ruka. 

He'd like to think he knows every aspect of Ruka; what makes him tick, deciphering his thoughts just through the slightest change in facial expression, but it's too far-fetched to assume that anyone could truly understand what's going on inside his mind. He's wide open but so hard to keep up with, untouchable in a way.

Ruka's still utterly knocked out when Gaku undresses him for bed, carefully as not to wake him, like he's done so many times before.

But something feels different this time. Its heavy on his chest, brain going on autopilot in a desperate attempt to not feel anything, pulling off his shoes, unbuttoning his shirt to slide it down his arms, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

It's completely silent but the room feels too loud, the whirring of his pulse pounding in his ears only quieting momentarily as he brushes Ruka's bangs aside to place a kiss on his forehead. It lasts a second longer than it should have, lips lingering just for a moment more than necessary.

He waits for Ruka to stir. Nothing. Just the steady puffs of breath from his dozing mouth, lips gently parted. 

And Gaku wants to kiss him again so badly. Soft pink lips, still wet with presumably Gaku's saliva, are tempting, but he holds back nevertheless. 

By the time he returns to his own dorm room his nerves have finally begun to settle. It's then he notices Ruka's button-up is still balled up in his fist, his body subconsciously not wanting to let it go. 

This is humiliating, he thinks when he presses his face into it, inhaling. It smells overwhelmingly like Ruka. Like cinnamon and with hints of sweat from wear throughout the day and something deeper; Ruka's smell he's become familiar with. Unfortunately, it stirs something inside him that goes straight to his pants.

With another inhale of the shirt his eyes flutter shut. As he sits on the edge of his bed he's so overcome with shame and guilt about his rock hard erection that there's no other way to go about it than push all dignity aside and embrace it.

One hand goes to pull down his pants and release himself from the confines of his boxers while the other still tightly clings to the shirt, too far gone to care about the fact he's shamelessly breathing in Ruka's scent without stopping to think how gross it might be.

As he strokes himself, he tries to think about anything other than the fact he's getting off to his best friend's dirty laundry, and it's a pathetic attempt.

He imagines what Ruka must look like during an orgasm, his eyes rolling back as he's fucked senseless, maybe tears welling in the corner of his eyes, drooling slightly. The feeling of him desperately rocking back, falling apart on Gaku's cock until he's brainless, until the only words he can remember are Gaku's name and "more". 

How he looks littered with bites and bruises sucked into his neck; greedy, possessive marks staining his skin. Smiling dumbly in a post-sex daze, laying on top of Gaku, too fucked out to move. Saying he loves him.

Telling him he loves him. 

Out of everything in his pornographic fantasies, that's what sends him over the edge. Moaning into the shirt he's still huffing, he spills into his hand. His vision fades out in a few seconds of white-hot bliss before everything comes firing back down onto him. 

His stomach and hand are now wet with his own cum. He wants to drown. He wants to remember nothing but this scent. He wants to not be so horribly in love anymore.

Guilt ridden and ashamed of the fact that he just beat off to thoughts of Ruka writhing beneath him, he circles back to the crushing conclusion that he doesn't feel any better now. He feels worse, he's in the same situation as before. Every aching muscle in his body still craves reciprocation.

Before he can get too swept up into his self-destructive thoughts again, he wipes himself off with tissues, throwing his shirt and pants, along with Ruka's shirt, far into the corner of his room as if it being out of sight will keep Ruka off his mind.

A concoction of guilt, sadness, and an emotion too confusing to place yet, swirl inside him, humming through him almost like a lullaby when his eyes are too sore to keep him awake any longer. Consciousness slips and sleep takes over; he decides everything he feels right now is an issue for later.


End file.
